Hawthorne brought her a ss of milk. Gwh set her phone aside, eyes still wary.
"Rx, I''m not here to gloat," he said, voice steady but not unkind. "If you miss home so much, why don''t you just go back?"
For someone who seemed so much more mature than Leonie, Gwh was strangely hesitant when it came to her family.
She looked away, blinking hard, like a little girl whose secret had just been discovered. Her eyes reddened almost instantly.
"No one ever told you it''s rude to eavesdrop?" she snapped, mustering as much indignation as she could. She sounded more flustered than angry, like a kitten trying to bare its ws-full of bravado, but harmless in the end.
The embarrassment quickly outweighed her irritation. The words were barely out of her mouth before she regretted them.
If it hadn''t been for Hawthorne yesterday, she''d probably have ended up alone with Bill Crawford-
"I''m sorry," Gwh blurted out, her voice softer now. "I shouldn''t have spoken to you like that. And... thank you. For yesterday."
She watched as Hawthorne stepped inside, set the ss of milk down, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.
Wasn''t someone like Hawthorne supposed to be above these small acts of kindness? Yet here he was, bringing her milk, and she found herself oddly touched by it.
Was it toote to thank him properly now?
Hawthorne''s voice was low and rich-smooth as aged wine. Gwh''s apology was sincere, but she hadn''t expected him to tease her in return, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Thankfully, he let it go after that, not pressing her any further.
Gwh stood there, fiddling with the hem of her sweater, eyes darting away. She looked every bit the little girl caught doing something wrong.
Suddenly, Hawthorne reached out. She tensed, uncertain of his intention-until he gently tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.
His fingertips brushed her skin, just barely grazing the tip of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Hawthorne seemed just as startled, quickly withdrawing his hand.
They both froze, a beat of awkward silence hanging between them.
He cleared his throat and veered toward a safer subject. "Bill Crawford. You two dated?"
Gwh was still reeling from that idental touch, finding it hard to focus. When Hawthorne had
rescued her, he''d seemed so
different from his usual dist
self almost fierce, like someone who could tear the world apart if he wanted.
She hesitated, weighing her words. But she''d already told Leonie the truth, and Bill''s attitude in the restaurant had spoken for itself.
"Yeah. We dated for a few months, but nothing ever happened between us. We broke up before, and I didn''t expect to run into him yesterday."
Even thinking about it left her uneasy. After Hawthorne showed up, she had no idea what became of Bill Crawford.
"He was taken in by the police,"
Hawthorne said bluntly. "Not enough to put him behind bars for good, but
he''ll spend a couple of weeks in a
cell Maybe that''ll teach him @ lesson."
Gwh stared at him, surprised. Bill always acted untouchable
around her, like he could do
whatever he pleased. But Hawthorne had managed to get him locked up for half a month-that said everything about the difference in power between them.
She opened her mouth to respond, but whatever she wanted to say never made it
out.
Hawthorne didn''t push. Instead, his gaze shifted to the milk. "Drink up and get some rest. No need to go into the office for the next few days."
He paused, fixing her with a steady look. "I''ll handle Miss Yvette. You don''t need to worry about it."
With that, he left, not lingering for any further conversation.
Gwh lifted the ss. The milk was pleasantly warm-neither too hot nor too cold. She took a careful sip; it was perfect.
As she finished the ss, her eyes stung and her cheeks flushed with unexpected warmth.
Aside from her family—her dad, mom, aunt, and grandmother-the Everharts were the first people outside her own blood who had ever shown her such kindness.